


That's Some Gay Shit Right There

by blazingArtist (orphan_account), catwanmushi (orphan_account)



Category: Ib (Video Game), 霧雨が降る森 | Kirisame ga furu mori | Forest of Drizzling Rain
Genre: Crossover Shipping, M/M, hikikomori au
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-21
Updated: 2015-09-21
Packaged: 2018-04-22 19:36:56
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 2,424
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4847798
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/blazingArtist, https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/catwanmushi
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Titles are hard and I just didn't want to slap up my file name "Hikikomori SuGar drabble," so there you go.</p>
<p>This was originally meant to be a very short 1-2 page drabble just as writing practice and an excuse to write Suga and Garry being gay, but it turned into this five page thing that took me months to bother to finish. Anyway, this is an alternate universe where Kotori Obake things never happened, and it's not specified (or not too important) whether or not the gallery events occurred or not. Suga is a recluse in this au and basically never goes outside except at night sometimes to buy things which is typical for Japanese hikikomori.</p>
<p>Please enjoy! I'm breaking it up into three chapters based on the little time jumps.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. ch 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [shinysableye](https://archiveofourown.org/users/shinysableye/gifts).



The permanently silent man knew that his current life style was abysmal by societal standards, but he could not bring himself to fix it. Days passed by slowly and in relative solitude. Sometimes a childhood friend visited, sometimes a worried father, but besides that?

Suga’s life was empty.

There weren’t many reasons to leave his apartment, and he had even managed to get a job that allowed him to stay at home. He had to translate various books from English to Japanese, or from Japanese to English. Nothing major, and a simple task for the bilingual twenty year old.

It didn’t matter, anyway. It had always been better for Suga to be alone. People were often bothered by his presence and found his silence and expressions creepy. He didn’t like it. The glares he had received in childhood, and the stares he now received as an adult.

His current task – which had been simply reading a book – was interrupted by the sound of knocking at the door. Dark eyes blinked in an almost owlish manner, as the two people who usually visited always made a point to announce it prior.

It made Suga anxious to think that anyone else wished to bother with him. Footsteps were quiet as he forced himself to check into the disturbance, but when he opened the door there was no one there.

The dark haired man peeked his head out the door, eyes flickering back and forth to check for activity within the hall. There was nothing. No, it wasn’t until his eyes glanced down that he noticed what had been left for him.

A plate of cookies and a note. At least he wouldn’t have to talk to anyone now, but it would mean having to thank whomever had left them later…

Suga picked up the gift before closing his door, taking the plate into the tiny kitchen as he read the little note:

> **Hi Suga(r)!!**  
>  **We haven’t really talked but you seemed kind of lonely so I baked some cookies! I hope you like them.**  
>  **We should talk sometime!**  
>  **Garry**

The slip of paper was covered in little drawings, a heart beside the sender’s name, and smiley faces all over the rest. At the bottom was a doodle of a stick figure version of Suga next to a taller lavender haired stick figure. The pictures were childish beyond belief, but the silent one couldn’t manage to suppress the tiniest of smiles.

It was a stupid little thing, and should have been insignificant to the reclusive man, but it was such a nice, almost normal gesture of kindness.

Garry was rather new to the apartment building, and was, simply put, a goddess. Taller than anyone Suga had ever met before with fluffy purple hair and pretty blue eyes – one was always hidden behind his hair, though. He had only met the man in person once, and that had been two weeks earlier. The French man had been bubbly beyond belief, and had called Suga “cute” of all things.

He was probably just trying to be nice, and wouldn’t attempt communication again after this, but the recluse could at least allow himself to think the kindness would last. No, it would be problematic to let himself hope for such a thing, since Suga would soon be forgotten, as a man that lovely and bright was sure to make plenty of friends far better than the quiet freak that lived next door.


	2. ch 2

Suga had been mistaken. Not only did the lavender haired man continue leaving little notes on the door, but they had grown more and more consistent over the past month. Now it was a daily thing, and the dark haired man always checked his door after Garry left for his job to see if there was a note. There always was. Every single time. Sometimes the taller one left gifts to go with the messages, too.

In all that time, the reclusive male hadn’t sent a single note back. He had found a special place to save each and every message from the beautiful man next door, but he couldn’t manage the courage to send anything back.

It was honestly a surprise that Garry still bothered when the recluse never responded. Which was why today, Suga was going to actually do something. Certainly, nothing he could do would quite measure up to the kindness he had been shown so far, but he felt awful for never replying.

He was used to writing when it came to communication, but trying to write a letter to his friend – could they be considered friends when Suga had never replied? – made him nervous. Perhaps because of how long this had gone on without the silent man trying to tell Garry anything, or maybe because he actually cared what this man thought.

Still, eventually the letter was completed. It was monotonous in Suga’s opinion, just like everything else within his life, but at least it wasn’t as horrid as the journal entries he often wrote. He hoped it would be enough for the man whom he considered a friend.

> **Garry,  
> ** **Thank you for everything. Your messages make me smile, and your gifts are sweet ~~like you~~.  
> ** **I’m sorry for not responding sooner. I’ve been anxious, and expected you to tire of sending notes. It’s been rude of me, accepting so much kindness from you and never saying anything in return.  
> ** **I would tell you other things, but I doubt there is anything within my life that would be of interest to you. You sometimes give me stories about your day in your notes, but my life is somewhat boring.  
> ** **I’ll try to write more tomorrow.  
> ** **Thank you again,  
> ** **Suga** 菅

It wasn’t perfect in the least, but it was the best Suga could manage at this point. At least it was some form of reply, and better than nothing.

Moments later, the man found himself outside of the safety of his own apartment, body slouched and eyes hidden behind dark bangs. It was uncomfortable, being outside in the middle of the day as opposed to at night – only to buy food, of course, nothing else really got him outside, after all. At this time, his neighbor should be out at work, but it still had Suga nervous beyond belief.

It was only a few steps to the other man’s door, but the shut-in couldn’t help the trembling of his body. What if someone passed by and asked what he was up to? He didn’t want to see anyone; they would only stare and judge.

When had his breathing gone heavy? Suga’s anxieties were far worse than he remembered, but he eventually forced shaking legs to bend down so he could slip the letter underneath Garry’s door.

He could not flee back to his own apartment fast enough. The door was slammed shut, and the recluse shivered as he clutched at his own body, trying to calm his frenzied nerves. It was horribly embarrassing; it had only been a few moments, nothing major, nothing to be such a mess over.

Suga would get over it soon, and he would need to get used to this…

There were more letters to write, after all, and they would need to be delivered.


	3. ch 3

Days, weeks, eventually even months passed. Nothing had changed, and yet plenty had. Sitting alone in an apartment, a dark haired man wrote out a letter to a friend, but unlike the preceding months, he felt far less lonely.

He didn’t tremble when he delivered the messages day after day, but he still tried to be quick about it. Anything to avoid the judgment of others.

The drawer where Garry’s letters were kept needed to be reorganized, but it could wait until later in the day. He had looked through them the day before, and at any other point when he felt like truly disappearing. It reassured him that someone cared.

Suga couldn’t fathom why his friend cared so much, but he supposed it was something he would never truly understand.

The newest letter was finished moments later, and delivering it would only take a few minutes. Dark eyes flickered to a nearby clock, noting that the other man would definitely be away at this point. It was honestly cowardly that Suga could only deliver the notes when he knew there was no chance of legitimate human interaction, but his anxieties only spiked around people. He didn’t want to ruin this relationship with his strange behavior.

Footsteps echoed in the empty hall as the few steps were taken to get to his tall friend’s apartment.

Usually that would be it. He would simply slip the letter beneath the door and return home, but this time, Suga stood in front of the door, dark eyes widening a fraction as he heard the sound of singing from within.

It was in a foreign language, and the voice was beautiful and calming.

Eyes flickered about the hall, before Suga found himself leaning against the door, just listening.

Garry shouldn’t have been home, but he was. Had the silent man’s heart been beating this fast moments ago? It was an interesting sensation, being soothed by the voice while feeling anxiety spike over being out for longer than normal, and the thought of maybe today being the time when he finally interacted with his friend properly.

He wasn’t prepared. Did it matter?

It was dizzying, the way that Suga’s thoughts went in circles, never quite coming to a legitimate decision. Instead, he just stood there, listening to the sound of his friend’s singing while he debated on trying to see him for once.

He couldn’t do it. The dark haired man was already shaking terribly, and there was no way he would have the courage to see his friend in person. How awful of him. How terrible and cowardly of the silent man.

A chance had presented itself and Suga couldn’t even properly keep himself together just thinking about it.

His thoughts and anxieties were interrupted by the sudden feeling of his support giving out as the door was opened – in his own musings he hadn’t even realized the singing had gotten louder from proximity. It was too late, of course, and the dark haired man would have fallen over if not for Garry catching him.

Suga would have preferred to hit the ground, due to the sheer embarrassment of being held by his startled friend. A moment was taken to scramble out of Garry’s arms, before the shorter man turned around to face the other. He instantly regretted it, though, from just how _excited_ Garry looked.

As if Suga had been visiting on purpose, and wasn’t just a shaky coward that couldn’t manage to hold a conversation for more than two seconds.

**“Suga! Omigosh, I haven’t seen you in forever! C’mon in!”** Garry seemed to completely ignore the Japanese man’s discomfort, pressing a hand to his back as he lead him inside.

The warm touch didn’t last very long, but Suga found himself continuing to follow the taller male as he went into the kitchen.

**“I was actually just doing some baking! You still like cookies, right? Ooo, when they’re done, maybe we could watch a movie together.. Well, unless you’re busy..”**

There was a certain ease to Garry’s words, even though he seemed worried about asking for too much. Right. Even if his friend was happy to see him, that didn’t mean he wasn’t aware of just how reclusive Suga could be. It was, after all, difficult to miss since they hadn’t actually seen each other in person since the other man moved in.

Without having any memo sheets on Suga’s person – he rarely had a need to speak with others, and usually knew before anyone was set to come over – he could only nod in agreement. It was almost surreal, knowing that he was outside his own apartment and in front of such a sweet person, without feeling like he was going to empty the contents of his stomach.

Garry didn’t even seem to mind that he wasn’t speaking, instead managing to carry the conversation well enough by himself. After a certain point, Suga found himself simply listening to the way his voice got a little higher when he said something that excited him further, or when the quiet man gave him a tiny smile – though it was usually on the awkward or sheepish side of things.

Suga couldn’t remember the last time he had been around someone who put him at ease like this – even his family and his other friend always expected responses from the quiet man, but Garry didn’t put any pressure on him at all.

He hardly realized when hours passed by, and they really did end up watching a movie – the subject matter being something that Suga could not recall even if he tried, since his focus was mainly on the other man who insisted on snuggling up under blankets together.

The tall man was surprisingly soft, and exuded warmth which clashed with how frozen Suga usually felt, giving him a feeling akin to melting right in. How long had it been since he was so close with any human being, if ever? Were letters really enough to make him so nervous and at ease all at once?

Apparently. Every small movement, a twitch of the lips that turned into a full on grin at whatever happened on screen, or soft whining when something went wrong – more startling was when Garry squeezed him tighter during the whining, before Suga was pulled into his lap so it would be easier for his face to bury itself in his chest.

Maybe this was how Suga would die, embarrassment clear by the redness of his cheeks as the other man’s face pressed into his sweater. His hands reached up almost mechanically, slow and stiff, before fingers weaved into fluffy purple hair.

It seemed to prompt a happier response out of Garry, almost like a cat purring, and eventually the soft, comforting warmth lulled him to sleep.

Suga dreamed of soft kisses and snuggles with his beautiful neighbor, until he woke up to the same man curled up with – and, ugh, drooling on – him. This sort of proximity, and being outside of his own apartment should have been terrifying, but the smaller man just sighed and started to rub Garry’s back. Hopefully he’d be able to clean the trail of saliva off his sweater soon, but for now he would just enjoy this closeness.


End file.
